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A life turned upside down then around

Nolan Barnes awoke in a dream. It was one of those nightmares within a nightmare. He was face down in the long grass of a ditch by a highway.
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Nolan Barnes wheels up the driveway at his parents' farm outside Saltcoats. About the drunken car crash that took the use of his legs and lower torso, he says: "It was preventable. It's not like a meteor came out of space and hit us."


Nolan Barnes awoke in a dream. It was one of those nightmares within a nightmare. He was face down in the long grass of a ditch by a highway. He could hear screaming in the near distance, but could not see his friends or the vehicle they had been travelling in.

He could not move his lower body. He attempted to raise his torso up on his arms but collapsed as his collarbone gave way.

He yelled for help fearing nobody would know where he was.

He couldn't understand what was happening, surely he would wake up soon and carry on with his life.

But this was no dream.

The last thing Nolan remembered was taking off his seat belt so he could go to sleep after a long night of drinking and drug-using in Saskatoon. What would he say to his parents, Doug and Sharon, whom he had lied to about where he was and what he was doing?

They would be out of their minds with worry.

He felt a hand on his back. Everything would be okay, a man's voice said, an ambulance was on its way.

Recovering in hospital, Nolan found out the life-changing news. His back was shattered, the result of having become a human projectile launched 70 feet through the air when the Chevy Suburban rolled. It was very unlikely he would ever walk again. One of his best friends was not even that lucky.

Shock led to despair.

"At first, I didn't want to talk to anybody, I didn't want to do anything, I was so upset," he said.

In the weeks following the crash, however, he found out he was not alone. One of his teachers and some friends organized a steak dinner benefit at Pockets. Yorkton businesses stepped up with door prizes. The event sold out and the funds raised were well appreciated not just by Nolan, but by his family.

"At the time you're just kind of stunned," Sharon said. "But afterwards, I thought, 'what a community, what a great community.' Those things are really beneficial, they really mean a lot to the people who are in it."

Buoyed by the support, Nolan started coming around.

"After a while, I just realized the harder I work in here, the faster I'll get out," he said.

Even the simplest of things, such as transferring from his wheel chair to his bed, took months of falls and frustration.

"Then there's the times where your body can't keep up with where your brain is going. It's saying, 'you can do this,' but you can't."

Through it all, he felt like he was not alone.

"I lost a really good buddy in that car crash," he explained. "I always kind of tell myself he's kind of pushing me along as I go, that he can see my road ahead. I'm pretty sure someone like that or my grandpa is helping me from up above. I don't know how else you find motivation after something like that."

It was during that arduous process Nolan's physiotherapist invited him to take his story to other youths through the Prevent Alcohol and Risk-Related Trauma in Youth (PARTY) program.

Nolan agreed.

PARTY is kind of a "scared straight," day-long program presented to high school students across North America that takes the kids on a simulated journey from accident scene to emergency room to rehabilitation centre in an effort to encourage them to make smart choices (see "Scared Sober," Yorkton This Week, December 19, 2012).

In fact, the PARTY narrative is precisely Nolan's story, not because the program is based on the young Yorkton man's experience, but because it is far too common a scenario, played out year after year in communities all over the continent.

When Nolan first shared his story with PARTY participants, it was not the first time he had been exposed to the program. As a student at Yorkton Regional High School two years before the horrifying events of May 8, 2010, he had gone through the program himself.

"I didn't pay attention to one word," he said. "I was one of those kids in the back talking to my friends, thinking 'ah, it's a day off school,' and 'that will never happen to me."

Nolan doesn't preach. He doesn't judge. He just hopes by putting himself out there he might save some other teen, some other family, some other community, from similar grief.

"I'm not there to harp on these kids, but I'm going to tell them what I did and how I thought I was indestructible, how I was Superman," he said. "I always figured if I got in a car crash and wasn't wearing my seatbelt, I'd just die, I would fly out and that would be the end of it. Obviously, it didn't happen that way."

He said he never found it difficult to come clean about the self-destructive lifestyle that left him paraplegic.

"My parents knew what I was doing, I told them everything," he explained. "Most of the kids in school knew what I was up to because I thought I was a big deal. I didn't see any point in sugar-coating it. I don't want someone else to make the same mistakes I did and sugar-coating things is not going to help it. I'll tell anyone straight up exactly what I was up to and what kind of little shit I was. The damage was done, what else did I have left to hide?"

Recently, the now 21-year-old was honoured for his volunteer efforts by the Saskatchewan Institute of Applied Science and Technology (SIAST) from which he has just graduated with a diploma in parts management. At its graduation ceremony on May 31, the college's Kelsey campus presented Nolan with the SIAST Outstanding Citizenship Award.

"I was pretty excited, it's a pretty big achievement," Nolan said. "I don't really look back all the time on the things that I do, or the people I help, or the talks I do. I don't really think that I need to get credit for it, that's not the point of why I do it. It was really nice for SIAST to honour me with that award."

It's not his only big achievement, though. Aside from graduating college and getting a job with a Saskatoon company as a parts manager, Nolan is a national champion water skier, who will represent Canada at the World Disabled Waterski Championships in Milan, Italy, August 26 to September 1.

He said the late spring has made it difficult to get really excited about the event.

"We have so much work to do," he said. "I'd be more excited if we have 10 days straight of 30-degree weather. This windy, rainy stuff isn't helping anybody, but it will definitely be an experience I'll never forget."

That being said, he won't be there just for the experience.

"I really want to medal, even if I medal in one [event]," he said. "But my goal is gold, gold, gold."

As for the rest of his life, Nolan hasn't thought much past Italy.

"I try to live this day by day and month to month," he said. "I want to keep doing the speaking, that's really, really important to me. If that takes me somewhere, that's great. I always say, and I've told my employers this kind of takes precedence. I don't want to ever have to live my life saying, 'I could have been a world champion skier, or I could have done this, but I gave up on it."

For the generations of teens to come, Nolan's message is simple.

"Party smart, family first," he said. "I know high school seems long and you just want to get out of there, but enjoy it as much as you can. You've got your whole life to work, so enjoy it. And buckle up. Don't drink and drive even if it's just for a couple of miles. Talk to your friends and make this something of the past."

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